


Louis' Kitchen Catastropie

by Mr_Stylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cooking, Crack, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Insecure Louis, Louis Can't Cook, Louis-centric, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10461594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Stylinson/pseuds/Mr_Stylinson
Summary: Harry usually does all the cooking. While he's out for the day doing a bunch of solo interviews, Louis decides to make the curly-haired lad's day a little easier by doing the cooking and surprising him with dinner already made once he gets home later that evening.Now, if only cooking could be made easier for Louis.





	

Louis plopped down on the sofa and turned on the TV. He was currently alone in the flat he shared with his bandmate, best friend, and ever so beloved Harry Styles, who was out of the house today, doing a number of solo interviews somewhere else in the city. Louis had opted to accompany his boyfriend, who had to remind him that they had to be careful about being seen together in public, as per management's orders. Louis reluctantly agreed to stay behind, knowing that Harry was correct, but it didn't matter if they had to distance themselves, they still had the privacy of their own home to coddle, snog, or do just about anything that loving couples did, without the scrutiny of the media or management. Most importantly, they loved each other. No matter what they've been put through thus far, and will likely endure in the future, they would support each other, they would be there for each other. No amount of rules or 'beards' can truly keep them apart.

An idea occurred to Louis as a food commercial began to play on the TV, it will be evening time before Harry gets home, he'll undoubtedly be exhausted from all those interviews, by himself, without his Loubear, or any of the other boys there with him. Additionally, he'll have to come home and fix dinner for himself and Louis, who is still in the novice stage when it comes to cooking, even since that day where he had his first cooking experience, with Harry no less, which made it even better, Louis was still somewhat helpless when it came to preparing food, and although he was willing to admit it, it was still a little embarrassing. But the idea of making his Hazza's day a little easier was all too tempting for the blue-eyed boy. He gazed over towards the clock on the wall, it was nearing 5 PM, Harry won't return for two more hours at least. He pressed the button on the remote and turned the TV off before hopping up from the sofa and skipping into the kitchen.

Louis had one idea in mind, it was one of his all time favorite recipes, not only because it was the one he had made during his first time cooking, not to mention with Harry, in case anyone didn't know, it was delicious too. Louis was pretty confident that he remembered all of the steps, and that he knew all of the ingredients.

Chicken, mozzarella cheese, parma ham. Pretty simple, right? He also needed an adequately sized baking pan, and a functioning oven. Oh yeah, and potatoes, for the side of homemade mash.

Louis set to gather the necessary ingredients first. He opened the freezer, which contained plenty of food, but no chicken. He frowned, if he didn't have everything he needed, this would never work out. He then proceeded to scan the interior of the fridge, there was a covered bowl full of leftover chicken legs from yesterday. Louis settled with the chicken legs, at least it's chicken, right? He then began his search for the next two ingredients, he opened one of the drawers and was disappointed by the lack of a specific white-colored cheese. His eyes laid upon a dark blue package with shiny yellow contents, he then picked it up and stared at it with a bewildered expression.

 _American cheese?_ He only wondered for moment on how such rubbish managed to find it's way into their refrigerator. He sighed and sat the package on the counter next to the bowl of chicken legs. With a heavy heart, he looked around for his last target, but it was proving to be very difficult, and a little frustrating.

Finally, Louis sat down a cutting board on the counter top. With a cold chicken leg in one hand, and a knife in the other, he stuck the knife tip into the meat, running adjacent to the bone as he attempted to remove the flesh from it. After what seemed like five minutes, Louis pried the now loose meat from the chicken bone. The chunk of food looked more like a sorry pile of haphazardly sliced meat than a pristine piece of chicken effortlessly pulled from the leg bone like Louis had hoped it would turn out to be. He decided to be thankful that he at least didn't wind up cutting himself as he started working on another chicken leg, and he would also be glad that Harry wasn't here to laugh at his rather pathetic attempt at making dinner.

With the chicken ready to go, Louis grabbed a pot and filled it with water from the sink and sat it on the stove to boil, then he walked over to the pantry in search of potatoes. There was fruit, crisps, biscuits, but no potatoes. He slammed the pantry doors shut and stomped over to the dining room table and slumped into one of the chairs. Rubbing his face with his palms, he tried to rack his brain for answers to his dilemma. Harry would know what to do in a situation like this, that was just one of the reasons why he was always the one who cooked.

But Louis wanted to do something nice for his boyfriend, who would likely be more than tired by the time he arrived home, and by God, that's exactly what Louis was going to do. Face set with newfound determination, he marched back over to the freezer and removed a colorful bag from the ice. He grabbed the pot of water, which he noticed had never begun to boil, and sat it down in the sink. Louis pulled out a large baking pan, sat it on the counter, and laid out the prepared chicken and other edibles. He went to press the 'Bake' button on the stove's dashboard to heat up the oven, but no beeping sound was ever heard, even as he pressed his finger against the surface relentlessly.

He looked over and noticed that the green-colored numbers where the clock usually displayed the time wasn't there. Confused, he started pushing random numbers and buttons and getting no results. Finally, he pulled open the oven door, the light that would normally turn on when the door was open never lit up.

Louis shut the oven door slowly as realization sank in. For whatever reason, the stove and oven wasn't working, and yet, everything else in the house was operating just fine, including the sink, the fridge, the microwave...

Sighing, Louis began transferring the contents of the baking pan onto two large plates. _Thank goodness the chicken's already been cooked._

* * *

Harry thanked his driver, which he always did because he's that nice, as he climbed out of the backseat of the car. He was very worn out from today, but he knew his day wasn't over just yet, he still needed to feed himself and Louis.

 _Louis._ The fond thought of his Lou brought one of the few genuine smiles he'd had so far today. After the fourth interview, he had to start putting more effort into maintaining his composure, but he was finished at last, and he couldn't wait to get inside, relax, and snuggle with his one and only Louis Tomlinson.

Harry entered the door and shut it behind him, he was surprised by the smell of food which filled the flat. It smelled pretty good. Was Louis responsible? He shook his head, couldn't be Louis. Even after that first cooking lesson, and a few more beyond that, the younger singer still found himself as the only chef in the house, it was honestly more amusing, and perhaps a little cute, than it was annoying to Harry how helpless Louis could look while holding a spatula and frying pan. Harry thought briefly that maybe one of the other boys had came over, perhaps Louis couldn't wait long enough for Harry to get home and begged Niall to bring him some Nando's or something.

“Shit.” He heard a curse hiss from the kitchen. Full of curiosity, the curly-haired lad went to investigate, he saw Louis standing in front of the counter, sucking his thumb, which he presumably burned while handling the sizzling hot food that was sat on two plates. Louis spun around to run his pained appendage under cold water, but halted when he spotted Harry staring at him from the kitchen entryway.

Louis promptly popped his thumb out of his mouth and wiped any remains of saliva on his already messy red trousers. “Evening, love!” He smiled, beaming cheerfully. “How was your day?”

Harry didn't answer right away. He studied Louis' features, his feathery hair was a mess, he himself looked downright frazzled. He could still spot the mark on Louis' thumb where he'd burned it, which Louis tried to hide in his pocket. The kitchen was in a state of disarray as well. The counter top and floor were littered with tiny pieces of chicken and fat, a knife was on the cutting board, it was bent at the center of the blade at a 90 degree angle, there were unopened wrappers of cheese slices scattered within the surrounding area, a pot full of water was in the sink, there was an empty sandwich meat package crumpled up and lying on the floor in front of the garbage can, and it looked like one of the pantry doors was hanging crooked, it appeared that one of the hinges had broken off as it was now lying on the floor nearby.

Harry blinked a couple of times before responding. “Louis, what the hell happened in here?”

Louis' smile faded. “I, uh, I knew you were going to be out for a while and that you probably would be tired, so I kind of made dinner.”

“Kind of?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Well, maybe 'kind of' falls a little short. I _made_ dinner. I fully, totally, entirely by myself, made dinner.”

Harry looked mildly shocked. “Wow, Lou, I never would have thought--”

“Yeah, well,” Louis cut him off, his smile returning as he spoke. “I wanted to do something nice for you because I figured you'd be knackered from today, all those interviews and stuff.”

“Hmm, OK.” Harry smiled at this, he then walked over and gave the older boy a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Loubear.” He said before glancing down at the plates on the counter. “What did you make, anyway?”

“Um...” Louis gulped, he hadn't thought of a name for his... creation, considering it hadn't turned out like he had originally planned. “Chicken...” He began. “Wrapped in... meat, and stuffed with cheese.”

“Oh.” Harry realized. “But don't you mean,” He displayed his hands, resting his right hand sideways over his left hand's flat palm. “Chicken, stuffed with mozzarella,” He took his left hand and turned it sideways beneath his right hand. “Wrapped in parma ham,” He rotated his left hand around his right. “With a side of homemade mashed potatoes?” He finished by laying both hands flat, palms down, spreading his fingers and curving them slightly, pointing them away from him as he brought his hands upward, adding more distance between them as he did so. It was almost ritual that he and Louis did the hand signals while describing one of Louis' favorite recipes, and it confused him slightly that Louis made no attempt to follow their tradition.

Louis swallowed again. “Well, sort of. I mean, It's definitely chicken with... cheese and meat.”

“Where's the homemade mash?” Harry asked.

Louis started to sweat nervously as he could feel his cheeks warming up. “Uh...”

“And why is the mozzarella yellow?”

“We didn't have any, so I had to use something else.”

“And why does the parma ham look like bologna?”

“Funny story...”

“Is that also why the mashed potatoes look an awful lot like tater tots?”

Louis finally let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He couldn't hide his embarrassing secret any longer, he knew Harry would find out anyway before the day was over, yet he still tried to delay the inevitable for as long as he could.

Harry didn't need Louis to respond to understand. He could practically feel the older bandmate shrinking under his curious emerald-eyed stare. Not wanting his sweet Lou to suffer any further, Harry pulled him in for a hug. “Aw, Louis, that's so nice of you.” He said softly, rubbing Louis' back. “You didn't have to make dinner, you know.”

“I know.” Louis sighed, relaxing into the embrace. “I just wanted to do it for you, yeah? You had a long day, I wanted to make it easier for you.”

“But you do already.” Harry affirmed. Louis looked confused for a second, but he quickly understood where Harry was getting at. “Just having you in my life, being able to call you mine, being able to love you like I could no one else. If nothing more, that's what gets me through the day.” He gently kissed his boyfriend's soft lips. “I love you, Louis.”

Louis smiled as he could feel his eyes get warmer. “Oh, go on.” He scoffed lightly. “Look what you're about to make me do.” They chuckled before Louis spoke again.

“I love you too, Harry.” He leaned forward and initiated his own kiss, which Harry gladly returned. They remained there for a few minutes, lost in each others eyes until Harry felt his stomach grumble, which was audible enough for Louis to hear.

“We should eat before the food gets cold.”

“Right.” Harry agreed. “I hope I survive.” He said with a smirk, prompting Louis to playfully punch him in the arm.

It was honestly pretty good. Granted, not a high quality meal considering the ingredients used, but Harry didn't mind while knowing that Louis, the love of his life, had actually taken the liberty to make it, even if it involved the microwave. He made a mental note to call someone and have them look at their stove tomorrow as he sat on the couch, snuggled with Louis under a duvet, a container of chocolate ice cream in hand with two spoons while a movie played on TV.

Louis took another spoonful of the cold, sweet, dessert as Harry nestled his head into the crook of Louis' neck. Louis put his spoon back in the container and leaned his head onto Harry's, who's soft curls gently tickled his face, one of his most favorite feelings ever.

They fell asleep like that, safe in each other's arms, wrapped within a blanket, TV still playing and a half-eaten container of melted ice cream on the table, one of the spoons fell in and floated in the chocolaty liquid.

Louis was startled awake by a sudden noise. He lifted his face from Harry's curls, who was still sleeping, and scanned around the house. What he'd heard was a high-pitched beeping sound that was followed by a low hum of air rushing, the sound that was usually heard whenever the oven was turned on.

...Wait, the oven?

_Of fucking course._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
